


Appropriate Tip

by frownypup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bartender Derek, Flirting, M/M, Stiles knows how to play the game (at least he thinks so)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frownypup/pseuds/frownypup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is surely one good-looking bartender, Stiles will definitely hang out in this club everyday. Stiles should have left some tip though, maybe Derek won't be so grumpy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appropriate Tip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [24Stiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/24Stiles/gifts).



> This is an AU. Derek and Stiles didn't know each other. Beacon Hills is a normal town and Scott is not a werewolf. Derek is, yet it's not widely explored in this fic.
> 
> Birthday Gift for my Beta. This is for you, T. It's not much but I hope this will make you smile on your special day. Thank you so much for being a wonderful friend. :) xo
> 
> To my lovely readers, if you want to wish her a happy birthday, you can write to her [Tumblr's inbox](http://lilwolfiestiles.tumblr.com/ask). That will be very kind of you. Thank you for reading. :) xo

“Seriously man, do you really have to leave tomorrow?” Stiles whined. Scott just smiles and hangs his arm around his best friend’s shoulder as they walk on the pavement. “Dude, you know I have a boss to please, right? I can only stay for the weekend, I told you. Deaton will fire me if I don’t show up on Monday. And I—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You need his evaluation letter to get your vet degree, I get it. Whatever, I have a museum to take care of anyway.”

On his the first year at NYU, Stiles’ routine circled around ancient studies classes, part-time job at some donut shop, and Star Trek marathons before bed. He was so focused on his studies, that he started to forget to shave his head and it grew few inches longer. He found out the he had to wear reading glasses in class, not long after, thanks to all his heavy textbooks. Seriously, like Stiles was not geeky enough with his flailing scrawny limbs, plaid shirts, and copies of Egypt’s ancient scrolls in his hands. But then one day, one of the chicks in her class called him a _cutie_ , and ain’t that a kick in the head for the one-hundred-forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bones.

So when the second year started, emotionally-boosted Stiles started to visit the campus’ gym and watched a healthy portion of outfit tutorial on YouTube. Eventually his wardrobe became, and is now more variative.  Jackets and v-necks can be found between the plaid shirts and colorful t-shirts. And apparently beanies looks good on his head, especially when he wears his glasses. He made his rambling skills of use by joining the debate club and he participated in competitions. And Stiles _never_ lost.

His fame escalated from that, he was a babe with a silver tongue. And cute ass, according to how many slaps he received on his rear on random occasions. Suddenly everyone on campus and some strangers he met on the street knew his name, there was no more invisible Stiles. Invitations kept popping up on his cellphone. Parties. Dates. _One-night-stands_. Yes, Stiles believed that the Apocalypse was near because somebody out there willingly offered herself, or himself, to have sex with him.

Even after he graduated, Stiles is still one of the hottest nerds in New York City.

Stiles now lives in a studio flat near American Museum of Natural History where he works, with his Avengers’ figurines and Darth Vader’s mask. Hey, don’t judge, expos happen in New York City and they are _awesome_.

”Let’s just check out this new place in town and get our ass drunk. Maybe I can get you to dance on the table again.” Stiles grinned.

Scott raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that was you.”

“Really? Holyshit.” Stiles laughed, he doesn’t remember most of things he did in his drunken states.

Scott shakes his head in amusement and follows Stiles into the new club. They look around for a while and check out the dark ambience with stripes of neon lights and the crowd of the room.

“Lookin’ good, Stiles.” Some guy said to him with a wink as he passes. Stiles doesn’t know the guy’s name but he recognizes him as one of his seniors back in college, so he just smiles back and moves along. Scott is chuckling besides him.

“Lookin’ good, Casanova.” Scott smiles teasingly.

“Oh just shut up.”

“Hey, at least now you know you’re attractive to gay guys.”

“Dude, I’m not just attracting gay guys, I’m invited to their place and get to _ride_ them.” Stiles said smugly.

Scott scrunches his forehead in confusion. “How do you actually ride a person..? I don’t get it.”

Stiles rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Seriously, your source of adult content is just _sad_ , I’ll send few links to your email later. I’m sure Allison will appreciate the new _knowledge_.”

“What does it have to do with my girlfriend?”

Stiles pats his potato head of a best friend on the shoulder and sighs dramatically. “Everything, Buddy, _everything_. But save the conversation for later, now please, let me buy you a drink.” Stiles offered, Scott just grins innocently and comes along with his best friend. They head to the bar and fill the empty barstools still turning their heads and taking in the surroundings. Both men are too distracted to notice the bartender already standing in front of them.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked, sounding annoyed that he has to _actually_ open his mouth to offer something to drink.

Stiles turns to the guy to complain about the unfriendly welcome but shutting himself immediately because holy ninja turtle this guy surely puts the word ‘hot’ to shame. He just stands there with his muscly arms leaning on the bar and his greek god face frowning at Stiles.

Wow, that is a _mean_ pair of eyebrows, on the top of a pair of beautiful eyes. Stiles has the responsibility to mention that the man has perfect nose, perfect lips, perfect cheekbones, perfect chin, and facial hair which is—guess what— _perfect_. Stiles has the same dark blue v-neck like what the man wears tonight at home but Stiles never knew it can look so good on a person. The v-neck the guy wears hugs his freature so tightly, Stiles can see the outline of the man’s delicious muscles. Just _wow_.

Stiles shoots his sweetest smile and winks suggestively. “ **You** , please.”

“What?” The bartender believed he heard wrong.

“ _What?_ ” Scott said, obviously sharing the same problem, but Stiles is not surprised.

* * *

“Derek, two beers and a Smirnoff.” A guy asked. Derek nods and prepares the order right away.

“So, your name is Derek, huh?” Stiles said, a grin on his face. “That’s hot.”

Derek looks so focused on those stupid beer bottles.

 “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

Stiles still faces Derek’s back, Derek must be missing what Stiles said. Stiles can’t blame him, the music is too loud. But no worries, it’s just the beginning. Just like his debate teammates used to say, if people fail to give you a response, keep talking.

“Oh my God, don’t you _ever_ shut up?” Derek said exasperatedly after two hours of Stiles’ monologue of his point of view in decisions that all the Presidents of United State made in the last two centuries.

See?

* * *

“Evening, Hot Stuff.” Stiles hops onto the barstool in front of where the bartender stands, for the thirtieth time in the last thirty days.

“Go home, Stiles.” The bartender said without even looking up from the lemon he slices.

Stiles gapes in shock, touching his own chest acting hurt. “Is this how you treat your loyal customers, Derek? If that’s so, I have a _serious_ complaint to propose to this club’s owner.” The twitch on Derek’s lips is enough to make Stiles grin.

“You’re a tour guide for an elementary school tomorrow, you shouldn’t drink.” Derek said while pouring an orange liquid into a tall glass.

Stiles grins even wider. “Oh my God, you _know_! You listened to my jibberish yesterday! I read about this crap somewhere, it’s the first sign of you interested in me. My effort is _finally_ paying off, oh God I think I’m gonna cry. _Hallelujah_!”

Derek serves the tall glass to Stiles, cutting his dramatic monologue. “Enjoy.”

Stiles stares at the glass and then dramatically whips his head at Derek’s way. “Really? Orange juice? Really, Derek? What do you think I am? _Five_? I’m highly disappointed by this poor service, Der. If not for your fine ass, I’m already out of here.” Stiles complained, but his hand unconsciously lifts the glass and he takes two gulps of the orange juice.

Derek’s lips twitch again, failing to hide his amusement. “Why should I bother to give you grand service, you never even leave me a tip.” He teased.

Stiles hums and leans closer. “ _That_ , I will gladly oblige, if only you’re proven capable of being five hundred percent less grumpy and serving me an actual _drink_.” He challenged, locking his gaze with the other man’s.

“Fine.” Derek agreed, a little smirk on his face. “But I think I’ll survive without a tip tonight.”

“Too bad, I look forward to the next evening then.” Stiles smiles sweetly, sealing the deal.

* * *

Stiles comes again the next evening, eager to see the less grumpy version of the bartender. He already prepared the tip, and it's something that the bartender would never expect to receive. He chuckles to himself as he slips through the dancing crowd to head to the bar. It's friday night, so there's more people coming to the club. Stiles hopes there's still empty tools at the bar.

Stiles is startled when someone tightly grips his wrist from behind. He turns around to face who did it and groans when he recognizes the person.

"What do you want, Ethan?" Stiles asked while trying to get his wrist free even though he knows it's useless. Ethan is a rugby player, he's a 'little bit' bigger and stronger than a normal person.

Ethan tightens his grip like it's a lifeline. "You didn't pick up my calls."

"Yeah, that's what people do to their exes who they don't want to see ever again—argh let me go, Ethan!" He hissed. The grip starts to hurt but Stiles' manly pride holds him from actually screaming for help.

"I need to talk to you." Ethan pressed. He starts walking ahead, dragging Stiles with him.

"Ethan! Stop! This is not okay!" Stiles struggled to break free as Ethan drags him through the back door of the club. Stiles winces when Ethan shoves him to the building's wall and traps Stiles there, both of his hands pressing Stiles' wrists to the side of Stiles' head.

"See, this is why we broke up. Your violence is not really my thing. I don't want to see you anymore, Ethan, it's over!" Stiles said.

"No! We are _not_ breaking up!" Ethan denied. "You will always be mine, Stiles, you need to see that you can't get away from me. I won't let you!" With that, he forces his lips on Stiles'.

Stiles whimpers and squirms as hard as he can but it only makes Ethan more irritated. Ethan tightens his grip on Stiles' wrist, pressing Stiles' body to the wall with his as his tongue pushes into Stiles' mouth. When Ethan starts to grind his crotch, Stiles is getting _really_ freaked out.

 _Help! Anyone!_ Stiles mentally screamed, closing his eyes in panic.

Suddenly the force that seizes his body is gone. Stiles feels his body sacks down to the floor, breathing heavily. He opens his eyes to see someone slamming Ethan up to the wall across from him, and he was utterly surprised to see that someone is Derek. Ethan's feet barely touch the ground and Stiles is honestly impressed because that rugby player is surely not light.

Derek hisses something to Ethan, but Stiles can't hear a thing and right now he doesn't really care. All he cares is that Ethan looks scared shitless and once Derek lets him go, Ethan runs away like he’s running for his life.

Derek then comes to him and squats in front of him. "You okay?"

Stiles just nods, because he still can't talk due to shock. And his whole body won't stop shaking, _great_ , what a way to ruin his image in front of the guy he likes. But thankfully, Derek doesn't laugh at him. Actually, Derek doesn't say anything else, the man just stares at him and then stands back up. Okay, that's even worse, Derek obviously doesn't want to deal with Stiles because Stiles is such a drama queen. That's why Stiles is startled when Derek offers his hand to him.

Oh. Well.

Stiles' cheeks blush as he takes Derek's hand and lets Derek pull him up. Stiles thinks that that's it, Derek will leave him there now since he has work to do and he has helped enough which Stiles failed to appropriately thank him for by the way, due to temporarily paralysis of the tongue. But instead, Derek doesn't let go of Stiles' hand.

Stiles is dumbfounded to find himself led inside by Derek's calloused yet warm hand. Different from Ethan's grip, Derek's grip is not trapping. It's just _there_ , firm but weak enough for Stiles to free himself if he wants to. But Stiles must be severely crazy or mentally damaged if he actually does that.

Meanwhile, Derek is still walking in silence as he leads Stiles into a quite spacious room in the restricted part of the club. Derek guides Stiles to sit on one of the cozy sofas in the middle of the room. He then disappears into the smaller room attached to the main room, which Stiles believes is a bathroom.

"Where are we?" Stiles asks, when Derek comes back with a first aid kit and sits next to him.

"Staff room." Derek shortly answered, taking Stiles' hand again and checking it out thoroughly. Stiles follows what Derek's doing and then realizes that his wrist is bruised. Stiles groans and mentally sends curses to his Ex.

_Thank you very much, Ethan, I am so charging you._

Derek gently runs his thumb along the bruised skin. "Does it hurt?" The man asked.

Okay, actually this situation is not bad _at all_. On second thought, maybe Stiles should thank Ethan instead. Because Stiles is really happy with this worried Derek he witnesses, and he will indulge it until the last second.

"Yeah, it hurts so bad." Stiles fakes a painful hiss. "Please take care of me." Stiles shoots his best puppy eyes.

Derek's lips twitch. "I take it that you're fine." He said, opening an ointment tub.

Stiles gapes. "Nonsense! I am _not_ fine, I'm so wrecked. I actually can use some comfort right now. Kiss the 'owie' better, for example." Derek's fingers are warm on his skin as Derek applies the bruise ointment on both his wrists.

Derek raises his eyebrows at him, a smirk on his face. "What are you? Five?"

Stiles pouts hard. "No, just one overwhelmed adult who got both physically and mentally harassed." Stiles argued miserably.

Derek sighs. "He won't bother you anymore."

Stiles' cheeks blush, suddenly feeling ashamed for being saved from peril by Derek. "Yeah, I have to thank you for that. Not my greatest moment, obviously, I just hope that you'll knock your head on the way home and forget my unmanly event in the morning."

Derek shrugs. "Not likely."

"Dammit, here goes my one month worth of flirting with you."

"All your pick-up lines scared me to death anyway so don't think about it too much."

"Derek, I want you to know that your sarcasm really turns me on." And so does the way Derek's eyebrows move when the man rolls his eyes.

Stiles wants to stay longer in the club and moves away to the bar but Derek insists to hail a cab for him. And for the first time, Stiles doesn't put up a grand fight. The earlier incident really kills the mood, Stiles just wants to get back to his puny flat and lets his Star Wars DVD console him.

"He knows where you live." Derek said when a cab pulls over. Is that a question or...? Nevermind because holy ninja turtle, Derek gives him his number, Stiles will not say anything to stop that. "Call me if he shows up."

Oh Stiles will call, Ethan showing up or not. "Wow, your service is really _satisfying_ today, Mr. Bartender." Stiles teased.

Derek just shrugs. "Just making sure my _customer_ wants to come again in the future." He said, locking his gaze on Stiles.

Stiles grins at that. "You know damn well I will."

"Good." Derek merely said and somehow that one word is enough to make Stiles' face feels so warm.

A soft mutter of "okay" is all he managed to say. He opens the cab's door, but before he hops in, he remembers something. He turns around to face Derek again. Before Derek can ask what's wrong, Stiles leans in and kisses his cheek.

"Thank you for today, Derek." Stiles whispered before stepping back. He chuckles when he sees how startled Derek is, the man definitely didn't see that coming.

Derek's hand moves to touch the spot where Stiles' lips kissed. "What was that..?" He asked.

"Your tip." Stiles said with a wide grin on his face, hopping into the cab. Before he can ask the driver to move though, Derek taps the cab's window. Stiles groans, Derek doesn't appreciate the 'tip', does he? Stiles rolls the window down, ready to face Derek's resentful words. "Yeah?"

Suddenly, Derek's hand sneaks into the cab, cupping the back of his neck and pulls his head out of the window. Stiles' yelp is cut abruptly as Derek kisses him full in the mouth and believe him when he tells you that Derek’s mouth is a sinful exhibit that will make you bail out of your religion. Stiles' body turns into mush as the kiss deepens and when Derek finally breaks the kiss, Stiles is brain-dead. Literally.

Derek swipes a thumb on Stiles' wet swollen lips and smirks smugly. "Don't be so stingy, Stiles."

Noted. So noted. Stiles will be so generous on the next tip-giving.

 

_**FIN.** _

**Author's Note:**

> **\- Epilogue -**
> 
> “Hello?”
> 
> “Derek!” Stiles smiles into his mobile phone.
> 
> “Stiles? What’s wrong? The guy from last night shows up?”
> 
> “No, I just want to hear how you sound on the phone.” Stiles smiles wider when he hears a groan come from the other end of the line. “Damn, your voice is just as sexy as your ass in tight jeans.”
> 
> Derek is silent for a moment before answering. “I’m gonna regret giving you my number, aren’t I?”
> 
> Stiles grins at the memory of Derek kissing him. “You know what you’re gonna regret, Derek? Not going on a date with me tonight.”
> 
> Derek snorts. “I don’t see a reason why I should regret that.”
> 
> “Oh I do. You know, Derek, I’ve already prepared a _huge_ tip for you after. And compared to how much I’ll give you this time, my lips last night was just a pennies worth.” Stiles said playfully.
> 
> Stiles swears he hears Derek growls, but maybe it’s just a bad operator signal.
> 
> “Then I will make sure that I serve you thoroughly tonight.” Derek purred suggestively. “I have plenty _things_ that you can swallow to your satisfaction, I will _serve_ you until you can’t take anymore, Stiles..”
> 
>  _Oh my God._ Note to self, don’t talk dirty to Derek unless he’s sure he won’t fall out of bed.


End file.
